


Ignorance

by LadyFeste



Category: The Queen's Thief - Megan Whalen Turner
Genre: Character Study, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-09
Updated: 2013-11-09
Packaged: 2017-12-31 22:19:51
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 498
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1037028
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyFeste/pseuds/LadyFeste
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Costis missed the good old days.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Ignorance

Costis longed for the days when he was a simple soldier and didn’t have to worry about being bodyguard or babysitter or companion to any oversized child who called himself king.

He pined for the days when he could peacefully hate the faceless Eddisian goat who dared to usurp power over his queen, because he didn’t know the man or the thief either one and the gods were fairytales no one told except when the harvest looked like it might fail and cursed at when it did anyway.

He missed the days when he didn't have to fear the gods would one day drop Eugenides and his life or death from the fall would depend on the grace of Attolia to catch him.

He longed for the days when he wasn’t a possible target to crush the heart of a country, or when he wasn't so thoroughly embroiled in politics and plots that sailed clean over his head in their complexity.

Because he knew now that “monarch” was another word for someone with so much blood on their hands it might as well seep from their pores and pools in their palms before dripping down their fingertips and staining them red. He knew now that the price of love was measured in pain and power and stolen earrings and impossible dedications to gods suddenly believed in. He knew now that the heart of a nation can be held within a single person, no matter how distant they may be, and that countries are conquered and wars ended with individuals, not armies. He knew now that not everything a thief can take is tangible and the best of thieves are those who steal conspiracies and loyalty. He knew now that people were not either good or bad but a dozen things in between, a confusing mix of I-did-what-I-had-to and choices-I-regret and I-didn’t-know and this-was-the-right-thing and I-am-myself. He knew now that every step taken was a leap of faith and the gods gambled with men and women and people sometimes lied to each other for the sake of a lie everyone knows is a lie.

And the knowledge was _hard,_ and _dangerous,_ and _frustrating,_ and he knew he had no business knowing, not really. He wouldn’t know if he hadn’t made the mistake of catching the attention and, against all odds, the friendship of Attolis, who would be annux someday. He cursed the man for being himself daily, knowing he couldn’t imagine his days now without the exasperating presence of his king. He was better for knowing, even if he did grieve for the days he didn’t have to get out of bed and wonder if this would be the day Eugenides or his association with Eugenides would ruin his life forever.

But, he supposed, one of the great advantages to these days over the old ones was, provided they were mostly alone, his punching of the King of Attolia was now met with laughter instead of charges of treason. 


End file.
